LINDSAY CAMPBELL FOR THE GLOBE AND MAIL
Facts & Arguments is a daily personal piece submitted by readers. Have a story to tell? See our guidelines at tgam.ca/essayguide.
When I stepped off the plane at Toronto Pearson International Airport, I was in for a big surprise. While I had been travelling the globe for three months, my family had been busy welcoming the newest addition to our household. Daisy, as my mother named her, though undeniably cute and cuddly, quickly became more than my family had bargained for.
She was constantly squealing and whining. She seemed to have an insatiable hunger. She couldn't be left alone for even a moment without destroying something of sentimental value. Daisy was worse than any child my parents had ever had the misfortune of raising, but I guess that's just part of the bargain when you decide to get a pet pig.
I was two months into my travels when my parents messaged me with some important news: The family was thinking of getting a pig. After much research, many a thought and extensive discussion, my father and brothers decided against it. The next day, while Dad was at work, Mom purchased Daisy anyway.
When Dad came home that night, he let out a sigh of frustration. The piglet, seeming to understand his disappointment, rolled herself up into a blanket and oh so cleverly lay down at his feet. "I guess she is pretty cute," Dad admitted. From then on, they could only see her through rose-coloured glasses. They adored her and no matter what mess Daisy made Dad would always be there to clean it up. All Daisy had to do was lay at his feet rolled in a blanket.
Daisy and I, however, shared nothing but contempt from the start.
It began when I arrived home from the airport, and found myself face to face with her. "This is Daisy!" Mom exclaimed as I set down my bags. My mother had told me Daisy was a "micro pig." The animal in front of me was anything but. "She's huge!" I said. Daisy grunted and glared at me.
Then, while I was in the shower washing away my travels, she unzipped my luggage and emptied the contents all over the floor. To this day I am careful about what I say around Daisy, because I know she understands every word that comes out my mouth.
When Daisy arrived she weighed about nine kilograms. She was sweet, sassy and smarter than either of our two dogs. However.
As time passed and Daisy became more comfortable, her behaviour began to slip. We soon found she was a cheeky creature. She would hop onto the couch or the bed and snuggle right in close until you gave her your undivided attention. This was her routine – sweet, cuddly, cute – until you wanted to move or even shift a little. Those moves would result in a blood-curdling squeal until you let her have her way.
By the time Daisy was eight months old, she weighed 32 kg and our relationship had matured into passionate loathing. She would do everything in her power to spite me. When I tried to let her outside she would stand at the door and grunt. When I tried to let her inside she would stand at the door and squeal. I would get back at her by slowly eating an apple in front of her saying, "No apples for you."
At around the 10-month mark, the rose-coloured glasses shattered. At this point our rivalry reached its peak, and Daisy made a bold move to spite me. After my parents had left for a party, I fell into blissful slumber. I was awakened by a loud banging noise. I ran to the kitchen and found the fridge door wide open, food strewn everywhere. Daisy lifted her head with a smug look on her face.
She let out a triumphant squeal and I saw she was eating all of my apples. I knew exactly what she was saying: "No apples for you."
After that incident we began to discuss whether to keep Daisy. Both my brothers voted in favour of her staying. When my parents turned to me, I found the fate of our not-so-sweet, not-so-little piggy in my hands. Daisy was a menace. She and I shared nothing but contempt, and the animal she turned into was a surprise we weren't prepared for.
But haven't we all had something like this happen at one time or another, when we expected one thing and got another? In life, we all get our share of surprises. Some are good, some are bad, and some are a micro pig that grows to more than 45 kg.
But no matter what the surprise may be and no matter the consequences involved, we know that deep down we wouldn't trade it, and the resulting stories, for the world.
I voted for Daisy to stay. I find myself questioning the chaos, the frustration and the destruction every single day. But then I see her curled up in her blanket, little snout peeking out, and deep down I know: No matter what mess Daisy makes, I can always get Dad to clean it up.
Noah Lehman lives in Bridgenorth, Ont.